Love thy Enemy
by dizzydreamer99
Summary: Cato kills Peeta in the arena and in order to save their families, he and Katniss have to lie to everyone they know. Can they pretend to love when so filled with disgust for one other?
1. Prologue

**_I have virtually no idea where this story is going so if you have any ideas or criticisms, then tell me please. Even if you hate every chapter and want to be nice. Don't. Be horrible. I'd prefer it. _**

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**Cato's POV**

I am a killer.

I had killed five people so far. I only had two more to go.

My lip curled in disgust as I punched his stomach. He was weak. It wouldn't hurt a strong man. He lay breathless on the floor. Aware, but unable. I lifted him by the neck and gritted my teeth. He was a disgrace. He deserved to die.

A smaller body was pushing me, screaming, trying to make me drop him. She was too light to make any difference, I simply threw her back while keeping my other hand on his neck. I was faintly aware of the thud her body made as she hit the ground.

I held him up above my head taking pleasure from his squirming as I slowly tightened my grip. He choked and grasped at my hands. But he was weak. Just a bakers son. He wasn't a fighter. He didn't deserve to win.

When he hit the ground the girl screamed again, running to his side and grabbing his hand. I even considered letting her live, it would be far worse than dying at his side.

"Kill me… kill me now…please," she sobbed into his chest. Just as I suspected. She barely noticed I was there. I reached down picked up a stick from the ground and tightened both hands around it, as if it were a baseball bat.

One more to go.

I didn't want to kill her as much as I wanted to kill him. But I had to. It was right. She deserved it. Just a foot in front of me, this sobbing girl wouldn't even be able to live in the real world. I was better suited to be a victor.

I tensed my muscles as I lifted my makeshift bat. Just one blow. She wouldn't take any effort. She was fragile. As week as her little boyfriend.

"Kill me… kill me," she kept on. She shook over the boys dead body. I was granting her wish was I not?

Just one more.

I couldn't take it any longer. I swung the bat as fast as I could. Stronger. Heavier. This was the last blow. The best shot. The one they'd play so many times in memory of these weeks.

A sharp pain stabbed the back of my knee before the bat hit her head...

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_**So please review, remember, criticisms or ideas. Thank you!**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**I'm really pleased at how many people have read this so far! 45 in one day! It's good for me, at least. Enjoy! **_

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My head was pounding. Like an elephant trying to tap dance.

I groggily opened my eyes. Only then did I realise that I was in a hospital. Did I win?

I sifted through my memory. But I never killed her? Did she die on her own? Maybe she committed suicide? She always did seem weak like that. She wasn't much of a competitor anyway.

I tried to sit up, but got restrained by something. I looked down to see black bands around my hands and feet. I pulled at them. Trying to get out. What was this?

But the damn things were strong. The more I pulled the tighter they got. How had I gone from about to win the hunger games to shackled to a bed?

The door swung open and standing in the frame was a very angry looking Brutus. "You better have a good reason for this, Kid," he muttered. Could he not see me? I was _strapped_ to my bed?

"You took the words right out of my mouth," I spat. Now wasn't the time for pleasantries. I needed quick fire answers.

"You strangled that boy to _death_!" he yelled at me. The questions mounted in my mind. What was he _on_?

"Didn't you spend all possible training hours telling me to kill without mercy? Cause I'm struggling here!" I was alive and in a hospital. I was pretty sure that meant I won.

"That's it! That's the problem! You're too thick to sit back and think about something before you charge on ahead at something stupid!" he yelled. I pulled at the bands around my wrists, desperate to wring his throat. Just like Peeta's.

"Well, go on! Tell me what I did! I killed Peeta? That's the Hunger games, Brute, that's how we play!" I grunted a laugh at the irony in that. "I did everything you said! I won!" I wasn't sure of the last fact, but there was little else it could be?

He just looked up at me, disgusted at what I'd said. Like I'd told him to shoot the president. "The Hunger Games isn't just a war. It's politics. It's a lot more complicated than that."

He still wasn't making any sense. Politics? He never told me anything about that.

"The winner isn't the strongest. It's the one the capitol likes most. They wanted Peeta and Katniss to win," he mumbled angrily. In the same way as when he came in. he started pacing with one hand across his chest with the other leaning on it, using his index finger to stroke his bottom lip.

"So what was I supposed to do about it? It's not my fault they bought their petty little love story!" I tried to shrug but the bands didn't let me. "Christ! Can you get me out of these bands!?"

He just flapped a hand and resumed his pacing, after which an Avox girl came in, starting to take them off. We were being watched. I searched the walls for any windows, any sign of people watching, but I found none.

"You were _supposed_ to make the crowd like you! Frame him! Or her! Kissed her! Make her look like a cheat! Let them kill each other for all I care! But _you must be the good guy_!" he screamed at me. Why didn't he tell me this before? Why didn't anyone. They told me it was a fight to the death, nothing more.

The avox girl unlatched the band around my second hand, so I started rubbing my wrists. "Well, I can't do that now! She's _dead_!" I spat. Again, I wasn't sure but it was probably true. She was weak anyway.

"Dead? You think she's dead?" he asked, in such a way that a normal person might even get scared. "You caused _riots_ outside the _presidents house_! That's how bad they wanted her alive! That's the first time in _74 years_! No, she isn't dead, and you better come up with something! I'm not even sure if it's possible for you, because I haven't got anything!"

I was used to his ranting. When he first saw the Fire Girl he thought she was a threat, but I knew that I was stronger. I didn't have any issues with her. She got a good stylist. Big deal. But I'd never seen him this bad.

"I bet she's acting like a bloody princess right now," I muttered under my breath. She may have lost her Peeta, but every rich man in the capitol must have been running after her. The Girl on Fire. The teenage widow, even though they never got married.

"No," a new voice at the door pushed in. He was more relaxed than Brutus. Though looking at the wobble in his stride he'd clearly had a drink or two.

"What?" I asked him, vaguely aware of Brutus raging on in the background.

"She's not. The President came and told her to end the riots or they'd execute her sister. She's spent more time trying to find a way out of this than the three of us put together," he said simply. I was in awe at how he could be so calm. I guess he'd already accepted fate. He'd given up.

He and Brutus started exchanging information. Well, it was more like Brutus was just asking questions. He often gave up without going the whole way. The avox girl finished unfastening the bands so I sat up and swung my feet round.

"Wait," I thought aloud. My naturally loud voice made them both look up at me. "You say she's desperate, right?" I asked the man in Katniss's defence.

He seemed surprised that I had spoken and just nodded as a response.

"She got the favour of the Capitol by falling in love. Why not play that card again?"

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_**Please, please,**_** please, _review! I need to know that you all like this and don't get bored at the first paragraph! If you have any ideas about what you want to read in this story then tell me, but please note, it must be K+._**


	3. Chapter 2

_**I'm really pleased to see how many people have read this story. If you have actually continued on to read this far, then i actually love you. **_

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**Katniss' (POV)**

"I can't believe this is _all_ you came up with," I muttered. I wanted to yell it, but I didn't see any reason to.

"Look, do you want to save Prim or not?" Haymitch asked me. He was right, I did want to save her, but I wanted to generally stay away from Cato for the rest of my life as well.

I paused for a second. Thinking it through. "You're sure there's nothing else?" I checked. His offer was the worst case scenario, given that I saved Prim. I wanted to be sure.

"Yup," he replied, with a bored look in his eyes. I sighed, and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had managed to survive the Hunger Games. Nobody had thought to tell me that I really had to dread the aftermath.

"Okay, I'll do it," I said. If there was only really one choice, then I had to take it, didn't I? Nobody could have predicted this.

"Come in Cato!" he called out the door. I stared at him blankly. He expected it. This wasn't a choice it was a command. This is what's going to happen, and tough.

"You had him eavesdrop on our conversation?" I asked, shocked, while Cato's bulky figure filled the door frame. Haymitch was a drunk, but he wasn't a fool. Cato would always be my enemy. There was no way around it. He killed my best friend, more than that.

"I'll let you two argue about that later, but now, I need you to figure out what you're going to do for the Victor's interview. You better know you're story like the back of your hand," he warned. I looked down at the carpet beside him like a stubborn child. The moment I thought I was free from being controlled, Haymitch took over.

Seeing my unwillingness to co-operate Haymitch simply left, leaving Cato standing awkwardly at the edge of the room. I concentrated on my breathing, trying to soothe my anger, while he just stood.

I sat there in silence until I couldn't bare it any more. I looked up to him, trying to stop the salt water escaping from my eyes, and said the only four words I could think to say, "You should have died."

His appearance was vulgar. Far too much muscle for one man and a permanent expression that looked as if he'd just drunk a litre of lemon juice. He could have saved Peeta. He could have let him live. He chose to be a monster.

I looked back down at the carpet, too disgusted to look at him.

"I won't pretend to like you. But if we have to do this then we might as well get on with it," he said in a flat, empty tone. Why? He didn't have anything to lose? Sure, the people of the Capitol hated him, but he could live on! He could go home and be rich. Live just a little better off than before.

"You killed him," I repeated. I mirrored his tone, but only to hide the tears in my voice. "You should have _died_! Why did you kill him!?" I screamed, getting louder and louder. I got up and walked over to him. "You don't _deserve_ to live!" I pushed him over and over again, until my hands hurt and my voice broke.

He didn't even wobble, just stood there and took it. How much were they _paying_ him? Cato _killed_ Peeta. He was a beast! He wasn't human! Why did he stand there and take it? Why didn't he fight?

I stepped back and sat back down on the bed, trying to hide my face from his view. It was too late to be strong. My whole world was at stake.

"I'm helping you, you know, fire girl. This is the only optional way out," he just said in his monotone voice. This left a thought in my mind that ceased my speech for a number of seconds, just continuing to look at the carpet, as far away from him as I could get.

I slowly got up and looked right into his dark, empty eyes. "Then, why?" I no longer hid my pain. It would have been apparent to him before long, and there's no time like the present.

"Survival," he said simply. But not in in his empty monotone voice that he'd used before. It was soft. Like somebody was speaking for him. But they weren't, and hearing that word reminded me of myself in the Hunger Games. Desperate to live, no matter what it costs.

But this didn't make sense! He was a monster! He killed without a thought time and time again! He even _wanted_ to! He _volunteered_! Survival? Should I have believed him? Or seen logic and let it go.

But that's when I was realised—he was the only one who knew how it felt. He had seen the Hunger Games and fought to win, and he had been there when Peeta died. But everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe he killed Peeta for a deeper reason, something more Philosophical. But what? I sighed.

"We're really going to have to do this aren't we?" I guessed, without looking up at him at all. I was going to save Prim. Whatever it took.

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_**Could have been longer, I know. Please review. I think the conversations are a bit rushed and un-natural. Anybody else think this?**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**I'm sorry about how long it took for me to upload this chapter. You may be able to tell, but it was quite a hard one to write.**_

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**Cato's POV**

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Live.

"Heya, folks! You'll want to stay right here tonight cause, boy, have I got a good line up for you!" Flickerman cheered into the camera. I used to watch some of his programs when I was in District 2. They were clearly scripted for the capitol.

"Now, just as promised, sitting in front of my right now, is Cato and Katniss from the Hunger Games!" _So, the capitol don't have eyes? _I thought snidely. "Katniss, let's start with you. Now, answer honestly, did you think you'd win the 74th Annual Hunger Games?" He turned to Katniss and I almost felt sorry for her. She must have imagined sitting here with Peeta. Not me.

"I," the word got caught in her throat. I was right. "I never really thought about winning," she paused again. "I made a promise to my little sister that I'd come home. I never break my promises." The last sentence was quieter than before. I tried to decipher her words, but my train of thought was broken by Caesars next question.

"Cato, I'm assuming you did?" he asked. He knew to be less annoying. This man may have deserved more credit than I gave him.

"I volunteered because I knew I'd win," I replied simply. There wasn't much more to say.

He was clearly expecting more of an answer, because there was a longer pause than the last time before he asked another question.

"Well, Katniss, as much as we hate to, we need to talk about Peeta… How are you coping?" he asked. This man was a genius. Or so I was told. Surely this would cause the opposite effect to the one we wanted?

For just a moment, Katniss looked more fragile than ever before. Her expression was almost scared, did she really love that guy?

As we rehearsed I put my arm around her and rubbed hers, with my head close to hers, mumbling encouragement that the camera wouldn't pick up.

"I," she stammered, and there was a long pause before she continued. "I'm alive. That's what Peeta wanted," she finally whispered. I had to admit this girl was a brilliant actor. We hadn't even rehearsed it in such detail.

"Come on, let's hear an applause for such a strong woman," he said almost gravely, at which the audience wildly applauded, but it clearly didn't make her feel better.

"So, there are rumours that you two have started something going…? Care to clarify?" Flickerman asked next. This was expected and we had planned.

"I don't know…" I said, looking down at Katniss for effect, who was looking up at me, still with my arm around her waist. "Maybe, we'll have to wait and find out." The plan was to get them to want us to live, by making it look like we were going to fall for each other. Genius.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he smiled. He'd guessed our plan. This man was so smart he just couldn't have been from the Capitol. I guess he knew it was politics too. He looked to the camera before saying, "Up next will be this years' mentors for the games, talking about what it was really like behind the scenes."

"And off!" the show director called out. But our show wasn't over. There was a live audience that could see us. An audience capable of telling people what they saw.

"Shall we…" I turned my head back to the exit. Katniss saw what I meant and got back up. I kept my arm around her, but didn't speak until we were in our dressing room with the door shut.

"You did good," I admitted, watching her collapse into a chair in front of a mirror. She leaned her head on her fingertips, with her elbow on the edge of the chair. I was suddenly aware of how weary she looked as she stared at the floor, much in the same way she did when she first agreed to the plan. "You alright?" I asked her, though I didn't care for the answer as much as I thought I would.

"How are going to _do_ this?" she questioned, barely seeming to notice I was there. She sounded weak. So much unlike the strong girl I had seen in the Hunger Games.

I felt awkward standing by the door so I jumped up and sat on a table, desperately hoping it wouldn't give in to the weight. "Just the same way we did tonight. Why are you worrying? They ate that stuff up," I answered simply. This wasn't going to be hard at all. We'd find a way.

She didn't say anything back. When I looked at her, something twigged. I almost felt sympathy for this girl, who been so stupid as to fall for the guy she had to kill. The girl who should have died. The girl who had only just lived.

I heard her breathing choke up as a tear slipped down her cheek. Just for one moment I couldn't bare it. I had hurt, I had injured, I had killed without taking any thought from it. Why did I have to take sympathy on this girl?

I slowly stood up from the table and kneeled down before the chair she was sitting on. She looked up when I got closer, and looked at my down at my face without breaking her gaze like so many would. She was weak and possibly stupid, but she was brave. She was the kitten that swam in the sea. Just to be different. Just to face fears.

"We," I started, lifting my thumb up to her face, and wiping that single tear away. "are going to do this, I promise. " I whispered, as softly as I dared.

The problem was, she didn't need to hear that from me. She needed to hear it from him. She loved him. He loved her. It wasn't the same between the two of us.

But…maybe? Maybe if I made her believe that I did love her? She might have thought she'd fallen for me? Surely, false love is better than a broken heart?

I hoped so.

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_**So, thanks again for reading, I intend to update soon. In the meantime, please review it, even if ****y****ou already have and don't want to feel like a stalker, I don't mind. Stalk away!**_


	5. Chapter 4

**_I'm really proud of this chapter, so I hope you really enjoy it. _  
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**Katniss' POV**

I opened my eyes.

I had laid there for an hour or two, waiting for him to get to sleep. He couldn't know what I was doing. I had no idea what he'd do.

I looked at the alarm clock. Midnight. He had to be asleep by now. But was he? He might have been a light sleeper. I never checked. My mind wanted to go into panic mode, but I wouldn't let it. I closed my eyes. I was hunting. _The deer mustn't hear you, Katniss, or it will run away. Do it for Prim, _I chanted at myself in my head, like I had so many times in District 12.

As silently as I could I peeled back the covers of my bed and crept out. I had already checked for the creaky patches in the floorboards earlier that day, and matching that with my light-footedness, I was a ghost.

I concentrated on my breathing. In and out. Slowly, though my mouth. I needed to get enough air, but not noisily.

Every sound was a scream. Another tonne on the bridge, only so many could be held before the bridge collapsed and Cato woke up.

I crept over to his room and slid the door open just an inch, cringing as it squeaked a little. I should have oiled it when he was in the shower.

I looked over at him. He was fast asleep. Like a baby. Like Prim. I watched him sleep for a moment. He was such a violent man, with a violent mind. But when he slept, that sour expression left his face, and in its place was one of tranquillity and peace. The muscles didn't seem so overwhelming now either. He was almost handsome. Almost.

I shook my head clear and stepped back, closing the door as quietly as I could. I couldn't let him stop me.

I crossed the kitchen and crept over to the desk on the other side of the apartment. I had earlier made sure that there was paper and pens there. I didn't know how much I would need, but I had to make use of everything I had. I had already learned that things change, and what you think you'll have forever might not even last the night.

I sat down in the chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. I could only just see. I had practice, from all of the hunting that I had done, but I had never needed to see for a job so small and delicate.

I picked up a fountain pen and tested the nib on my finger. I wanted this letter to be perfect for her. I wanted her to believe the story that the capitol had fallen for. Twice.

I sighed, a put pen to paper, quickly scribbling out the words I had so carefully planned out in my head.

_Prim,_

_I promise that I am well, though I miss you, Lady and mother very much. I don't know when I will be able to see you again, so I have written my new address above. Be careful with what you say. Don't insult the capitol. They go through your mail when it goes into the city. _

_Peeta is going to be sent home, and I promise I will be there for the funeral. The others were sent at least a week ago, but I guess the people of the capitol really didn't want him to die…_

_I now live in a nice little apartment with Cato. I promise, despite the competition, he is keeping me sane, and he isn't all that he seems. There is a great commotion between the games makers and mentors about where we'll live. The games makers want us to stay here for publicity, when the mentors want us to go home. Either way it will take a while, so don't hold your breath. _

_Be strong, Little Duck. Keep on getting the milk from Lady, and promise me that Gale is taking good care of you. Give my love to all in the district. _

_Your loving sister,_

_Katniss _

_Xxx_

Something hit the floor behind me.

My head swung round as if I was an owl. I was caught. Red handed. He would find out. He would know. I couldn't let that happen. He had to forget about Prim! If he found out how much I loved her then he could hurt her! What if I did something that annoyed him? He could go straight past me and right to her. Skipping the flesh and stabbing the heart.

But he just stood there.

He seemed confused. As if I was insane or ill.

I could see that he had knocked a biro off the table behind me, to the right. "It's late," he said, as if I didn't know. As if I hadn't figured it out.

I just looked at him. I didn't see any point in explaining myself. Either he deemed me innocent or guilty, whether he knew the crime or not. Begging, grovelling and trying to explain, I had always found, didn't work to the desired effect.

"Why didn't you write it in the morning?" he asked me. His voice wasn't really interrogating. Just trying to make sense of things. His expression was groggy, and his hair was all over the place. For a moment I wondered why the capitol didn't choose him for his looks alone.

"I couldn't sleep," I lied. "Homesick, I guess. I thought I'd send a letter home to my mother." It wasn't true, but it was close. I wasn't sleeping, and I did send a letter home.

As much as I didn't want him hurting my mother, she was highly capable of looking after herself, when Prim wasn't.

He looked at me for a moment more. "Come on," he said, quietly but without whispering.

He led me back into my own room and put the covers back over me. He got in, on the other side of the bed and put his arm around my stomach, with his head inches behind mine.

I fell asleep immediately.

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_**So, please review, and again, stalk away! I don't really have anything that i doubt about this chapter, but can you spot anything?**_


	6. Chapter 5

**_A special thank you to Floridagirl13, who without i would never have written this chapter. Hope you enjoy!_  
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**Katniss' POV**

The morning sun glowed through the now open curtains. It was late. The avox girls only came at eight in the mornings. I didn't care though; I just snuggled back into my pillow.

This was when I found a big, strong arm around my waist, prohibiting my movement. I heard the light breathing behind my head. So much like Peeta's. Was it somehow Peeta? Had I somehow died in my sleep and found my way to heaven; his side.

I twisted my shoulders so I could get a good look at the person behind me.

I screamed.

He woke up instantly and flailed around the bed behind me, before falling off the bed completely and taking all of the covers with him. After seeing his extremely annoyed expression I couldn't help but laugh at him.

"What was that for!?" he demanded, standing on his knees at the side of his bed, with his hair all over the place. This only made me laugh harder, until I could barely breathe.

Like a stubborn child he tried to stay angry but he just couldn't, and before long he was laughing too. He got back up onto the bed, leaving the covers behind and started tickling me as payback. I couldn't stop laughing.

"Stop!" I cried out through my giggling, but he wouldn't. He pinned me down, so that I couldn't move my arms to fight back and tickled me even more.

But then he stopped.

He was so close. We stayed there, panting from our little game and just looking into each other's faces. Something about his expression changed. I couldn't really tell what, but he went all serious when he looked at me.

My head was too slow to figure out what was happening to me as he leaned down to me, and let his lips brush mine, soft and gentle, but better than I could have ever imagined. He pulled away. Still looking at me, but differently. As if he wanted approval. To find out I wasn't disgusted by his actions.

Unfortunately, we had been so caught up in the moment that we didn't realise the rude intrusion of Effie Trinket. "Uh-hum," she coughed. Not only had she let herself into our flat but into our room. Surely, with all of that laughing she might have known that she wasn't invited?

Immediately we broke our gaze and sat up, making me feel rather foolish, to see Effie Trinket it with eyebrows raised in shock and her mouth dropping half way to the floor. I was almost prepared to remind her of her manors for a laugh, but I thought better of it. She would yell so hard with her puppy high voice I doubt I'd want to live any more, and it was hard enough without Prim and Peeta.

"Yes?" Cato prodded tactlessly. I gave him a warning glare but he waved it away.

"Uh," Effie squeaked, again I wanted to correct her. "There is a ball, for Peeta's memory, that you'll be expected to go to. Your stylists will be here at one. Be ready." Having said what she wanted to she left immediately. Her body strongly resembled a tree, she was stiff.

I waited to hear the door shut before I said, "Ugh, a ball? This is going to just horrible." As I spoke I looked to my right at the wall opposite the door.

"I dunno. A ball? We could have some fun," he smiled mischievously, which worried me. It worried me a lot. He laid back with his arms behind his head. I wished I was so relaxed.

With these balls and social and often mandatory events, it was always so… posh? Uptight? Was that the word I was looking for? It was the home of people like Effie Trinket. The people of the Capitol, who wasted food and clothes for the sake of fashion.

I couldn't do that. I'd grown up in a world where you lived in your clothes for the most part and savoured every crumb of food that you had. Watching these people waste such things while my family suffered was painful enough, but being expected to join in and pretend to be one of them? I wasn't sure I could.

Cato noticed my train of thought. "Don't worry, I'll be there," he smiled at me, resting his hand on the base of my neck, and lingering, as if to remind me of his previous action. I smiled back at him and hoped that would be enough.

"We should probably get up now, I reckon it's about half way around the building right now?" I guessed. Effie Trinket, as hard on manors and she was, was the biggest gossip I had ever met. She would have told every person she saw, no doubt about it.

"I'd say half way round the capitol!" he joked back, making me smile, just a little. "Come on," he smiled, and put out his hand for me to take, I sighed as he got up and started for the kitchen, but I had to get up sometime, so I followed suit.

I was losing it. I was losing it for him. Peeta had died because he loved me, and a week later I ran off with his murderer. I shouldn't have liked Cato. I should have fought him. I should have stayed cold. Strong. Emotionless. I should have never let him in. I could barely remember why…

Prim.

That was why. I was saving my little sister. Peeta would have loved Prim if he'd known her better. I should have introduced myself to him. Let him meet her. They were both so similar. So kind. So tame. I loved Peeta because he was like Prim. But overall I loved Prim, and I would do whatever it took to save her.

Even if it meant loving the man who killed Peeta.

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_**Please review. I don't care if you've reviewed every chapter so far. I like story stalkers!**_


	7. Chapter 6

_**Really short, I know, but it's leading up to a few important chapters. **_

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_**Cato's POV**_

I took a deep breath. This was going to be hard.

I fastened my cuffs, and looked into the mirror. I wasn't a dancer, or a gentleman. I was a killing machine. Why did I have to resort to this? I didn't dare tell Katniss, though. She was going to have it hard enough without me knocking out one of the VIPs.

I pinched the top of my nose and took a deep breath. "I can do this," I whispered. I grabbed my jacket and left the room before I had any second thoughts.

I looked around the flat. Katniss didn't seem to be ready yet. I pressed the button on the CD player and collapsed into the sofa, she wouldn't be long now.

It was only then that I realised what was in the CD player. Some soppy love song of the capitols. I looked around for the remote but it was on the other side of the room, and I really couldn't be bothered to go and get it.

Katniss cleared her throat behind me. I looked round to see the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. A scarlet ball gown with gems all over it, and her hair braided up into the top of her head. She slowly span around on the spot so I could get a good look at it. "What do you think?" she asked me, sounding anxious.

"You look perfect, you'll blend right in," I promised, though she seemed less satisfied than I would have expected.

I got up and walked over to her. "The car will be here in about ten minutes," I said simply, unable the think of anything else to say. She still didn't look completely happy. I looked at her directly for a moment, hoping that it would get whatever she was hiding out of her.

She faltered for a second before she said, "Cato…about earlier." So that was it. She sparked my attention with her words and I looked straight into her eyes to prove it. "Wha…" she trailed off in an almost helpless voice. "Where does that leave us?"

Her question made me cringe. Us. We weren't really an us. She believed it. She took the bait. Good for her. But I didn't like the us. I put on a smile and tilted my head towards her. "Where do you think?" I replied, attempting to be flirty, but failing in my eyes. She fell for it.

She looked away for a second before admitting, "I don't know…"

If I was leading her on, then I was doing this good and proper. I let a little half smile seep in as I whispered, "How about a clue?" and kissed her as gently as I could. She still seemed weak and fragile in my eyes, but almost as if I was to protect her. Well, I didn't know how far I'd have to take this, so I might as well have tried.

"Can we go home?" she asked me suddenly. At first I thought of District 1, but then struggled to figure out where _our_ home was.

"What?" was all I could say with such a busy mind.

"I want to go _home_," she clarified, looking into my eyes, she almost seemed like a begging puppy up so close. Home. _Her_ home.

"Kat," I half whined, "I'm not sure." The capitol wanted us here, and even the victors village in District 12 would pretty worn down. Far worse than the forest.

"Please," she begged, but not like a normal girl would. She didn't flirt or joke. She looked as if too much of it would make her cry because she wanted it so much.

"Sure," I decided. I didn't want to put her off the scent, even if it did mean having to spend a few weeks in District 12.

There was a knock at the door. The car was here.

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_**Bet you didn't expect that. Yeah, you probably did, but...**_

_**Can't be bothered to nag so you know what to do. **_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Sorry, I haven't updated in a while, there's a big thing at school about GCSE choices at the moment. I should be writing more often, but i can't guarantee.**_

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**Katniss' POV**

Curtains. Red, velvet curtains, from floor to ceiling. Flowing like a river, so soft to touch.

My dress matched the curtains, I realised. That explained why Cinna picked it out for me. My gloves where white silk that lead up to my elbow, and with the victors tiara—Cinna had it specifically designed—I looked and felt like a princess.

"Not long now," Cato whispered, taking my hand and giving me a warm smile. I smiled back at him. His muscles didn't seem half as unappealing now, in fact I was growing to like him. This killing machine was soft hearted—who'd have guessed?

My train of thought was cut off by the silenced chatter in the grand hall. I guessed my senses would never be unaware again.

There was a muffled speech going on behind the curtains. I couldn't hear what it was saying, but I was fairly sure that it was the president. There was a muffled laugh from the audience. I wondered if the joke was genuinely funny, or if he had just insulted the fact that I came from District 12, pondering which one was more likely.

"Now, may you all welcome our _two_ victors of the year, Cato and Katniss!" he cheered into the microphone, so that I could actually hear it.

The curtains opened to reveal a cheering crowd with glasses high in the air, soon followed by gasps as the curtain uncovered us completely.

Was it my dress? Was my hair bad? Was I slouching too much? I straightened my back just in case. But then I realised. I was still holding Cato's hand. I looked up at him, trying not to look worried. He leaned down to my ear and whispered, " Don't worry, it's the dress, you haven't done anything wrong." Despite his smooth tone of voice, his words didn't soothe me at all.

"My dress!?" I panicked, trying to get a good look at it without being too obvious.

He let out a short laugh, which confused me a little. Why would he take humour in my humiliation? He took his hand out of mine and placed it on my elbow before he leaned in and said, "It looks stunning."

I looked up into his eyes to see if he really meant it, and his eyes were filled with sincerity. When I saw that they were, it just made me feel awkward, so I looked at the floor with my cheeks warming underneath the full face of make-up that I had been forced to put on. This seemed to make the audience laugh, as if they could relate.

"Now, Cato and Katniss have become very close friends of mine," he lied to the audience as if they were old friends. "And I do believe they have become just as close on their own." There was a muffled 'Aw' coming from the audience. Why was he in on this? "You know, I was talking to young Cato just the other day, and he told me, that he would have loved to dance with miss Katniss here, so, to embarrass you both, I thought I'd grant his wish." I looked up to Cato. Surely this was a lie? "Why don't you take the centre of the dance floor?"

I disagreed with what he was doing. I doubted that he'd said a true word all night. Cato wouldn't say that. He was confident. If he wanted to dance he would have just asked me. But it was working. The people of the Capitol seemed to be lapping it up.

Cato looked down at me with an embarrassed expression, playing the part easily. He put out his hand and I smiled when I took it. He led me to the dance floor and held me as I held him, waiting for the music.

"I can't dance," I whispered to him, with serious worry tainting my voice. I didn't know how to dance. As much as Effie Trinket had tried to teach me to dance with Peeta, I could never get the hand of it. It never felt like grace and beauty. Just moving about in a specific way to please old people.

To my great surprise he laughed. He leaned his head right down to my ear and whispered, "Let me take the lead and you'll be fine." His warm breath made it hard to take in the words he was saying to me, but as he leaned away they un-muddled themselves and the music.

They played a slow waltz. It was supposed to be romantic, but I wasn't sure if the capitol's music really ever portrayed that. I was sure to keep my gaze on his eyes. They reassured me, and somehow told me what his feet would do far better than his feet or voice could.

"See, you _can _dance," he whispered softly. It seemed so odd that such a big man could speak so gently. I smiled at the thought, something I doubted I'd do at any point through the whole evening.

After a little while others started to dance around us. They were much better dancers than us, with elaborate skirts swishing as women twirled. This helped my nerves a little, nobody would look at us when they could watch a dancing queen.

Cato noticed I was deep in thought and looked at me with a questioning expression. "What are you thinking about," he asked.

"How much things have changed," I sighed. I don't know why I sighed. Things were generally better than in and before the Hunger Games. We had money, I had Cato, we weren't Hungry—and I could guarantee that Prim wasn't hungry. What else could I have wished for?

"You miss Peeta?" he guessed, with a tight expression on his face. I tried to decipher it, but I didn't have the chance because I realised that he was looking down at me, waiting for an answer.

That was when I realised.

I looked up into his eyes with my mouth hanging like a fish. "You _really_ like me, don't you?" I whispered. This shocked him, almost as much as it had shocked me.

We stopped dancing.

He opened his mouth to answer but nothing seemed to come out. It seemed so funny that this big, strong, confident man could possibly be speechless. I knew what he would have done if he was in my position, so I leaned up onto my toes and kissed him softly.

This seemed to get him out of his shock, because immediately he put both of his hands around my waist and kissed me back.

I looked up into his eyes, almost shocked myself now, looking for something, though I'm not sure what. He smiled warmly down at me. That was what I wanted. He leaned down and kissed me again.

Unfortunately, by this point the other guests had noticed and were applauding us. I still can't figure out why they cheered. We weren't musicians or sports stars, or even two kids who had did a drawing and shown it in assembly.

I didn't bother figuring out why at the time. I just hid my face in Cato's chest. I had never been so embarrassed in my life.

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_**So, please review! If you like the stories that I write on here then please look at my FictionPress account (DizzyDreamer99), nobody loves me there :(**_


	9. Chapter 8

**Okay, so, fortunately for you I forgot how many people read my new updates the same day that I post them, so I've already got the new chapter. It's short, but take what you can get as far as I'm concerned. **

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**Cato's POV**

"Do you want a drink?" I asked Katniss. We were now sitting at one of the elaborate tables at the edge of the dance floor. Katniss seemed pretty glad that we didn't have to sit at the table up on the platform, where the President seemed to be spending his whole evening.

"Uh, yeah, alright," she allowed. The Capitols champagne was good though. I don't know what they drank in District 12, but it couldn't have possibly been like this.

I walked over to the drinks table to see what I could get that wasn't pink or smelled of roses—seemingly that was the Capitols speciality—but there was nothing I could see. I got the bar tenders attention and asked if he had anything I was looking for and he went around back. Clearly, _normal_ champagne was just so low for the Capitol's standards that it was almost extinct.

"Well, hello," a low but feminine voice teased at my side. I looked over at her and my eyes almost popped out of my head.

A tall girl, who must have been about twenty, was standing in front of me. She wore a shimmering, scarlet, backless dress. The thin skirt was full length, but it had a long slit, showing one, long leg that she expertly showed off. It took a lot of effort to keep my eyes off it.

"Hi," I nodded. I was pretending to be with Katniss. I had to fool everyone, including the beautiful woman before me.

"You're Cato," she said, pouting seductively, it wasn't a question.

"Yes," I replied, struggling to get the word out.

Why couldn't Katniss be this hot? It would make loving her so much easier. It would totally have saved her sister—Prim, or whatever her name is.

"Little birdy tells me you won the Hunger Games," she continued in her still low voice. She leaned up to my ear and then whispered, "I find that very, very sexy." She slowed down when she said the words, which meant that I was almost shivering.

I smirked with only half my mouth. I wasn't going to be the nerd being hit on by the cheerleader, I was going to play her right back.

"Really?" I replied in a low voice. I touched the ran my hand up from her knee to the highest point of her thigh that the dress would allow and then some. "Well, it takes practice." She groaned as if in complete paradise.

She slapped hold of my hand but held it there. Pouting again she said, "Careful, not with everybody watching." She stayed quiet for a little while, pushing my hand, little by little, further up. "Do you want to go somewhere a little more," she leaned in before whispering, "Private?"

A heavy realisation dawned on me. I had to lead Katniss on. There was so much at stake. I couldn't do it if, halfway through a party, then there would be no chance that she wouldn't change her mind.

I groaned, but in a negative way this time, pulling my hand from her thigh and shoved it back into my pocket. "I best stay for publicity reasons," I said, not wanting to tell her I needed to stay for another girl.

She even looked a little sad when I said this. Taking a little step away from me.

I couldn't help it. For that moment I didn't care about Katniss. For that moment I didn't care about how much I had been holding on my shoulders.

I looked out at the men and women of the ball, they hadn't seemed to notice anything. So, I leaned into her ear and whispered, "Meet me at the top of the Contenders Building at 1am sharp. We won't need to worry about publicity there," I planned and then added, "Now look hurt and walk away."

She pulled it off better than I could have ever imagined. She pulled back with a shocked expression as if she didn't know what to say, and then spat, "We'll I guess I'll see you there," in a way that seemed as if she was calling me a bastard, and then she just walked off to another man across the room and started talking. I watched after her as part of the act.

The bar tender emerged from the cellar with a bottle of real champagne. I took two glasses and went back to Katniss, composing myself. She would not find out about this.

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**So, I can't guarantee when I'll write my next chapter in this, but in the mean time can you read my directionless story that I'm writing called Shadows. **

** s/3098530/1/Shadows**


	10. Chapter 9

**Cato's POV**

I leaned against the railing, it was cool in the night air, but before long that wouldn't be a problem. Down below was a relatively empty street considering I was in the capitol. The lights were still flashing but there were only a handful of Taxis waiting outside the club opposite out building.

Up on the roof it was very different. Plants and benches made it a romantic place to be in comparison to the rat race down below.

I checked my watch. 1am exactly. I really hoped she wouldn't be fashionably late as my previous dates back in District 1 had been.

Just as I remembered this I heard the clicking of heels. I turned around to see the beautiful girl again. I walked straight up to her and kissed her straight on the lips. I had been dying to know what she tasted like.

Lollipops.

Red lollipops.

A pretty good thing to taste of if you ask me.

"You going straight for it or is there something else you wanted?" she asked me. She knew why she was here.

"Well, I was going to get you a glass of wine and sit out here for a bit, but now you mention it," I paused, kissing her again. "You might as well follow me." I took her hand, kissed it and crept back into the building. I had no idea how she got in here, but now that we were here, we couldn't just go anywhere. After all, Katniss still thought I was in my bed.

I led the girl through the empty, but for some reason, still lit hallways to the District three room. It was quite similar to my own, but District 1 had contributed money to make sure that the contenders' stay was the most comfortable possible.

I pulled her in and shut the door behind her quietly.

I didn't even bother turning on the light before I kissed her hard, square on the lips. I let my hand stroke her thigh as high as I could get it.

I groaned again as she kissed me deeper than I had ever been kissed before. I took advantage of the position of my hand and lifted her up. She wrapped her long legs around my waist and ran her fingers hungrily through my hair deep in my kisses.

As quickly as I could, I led her into the bedroom, struggling with the door as I did so, and laid her down on the bed without breaking our kisses.

I searched for the zip on her dress, but couldn't find it with my mind already preoccupied to the maximum. She led my hand to the zip and I pulled it down, hearing a loud rip when I pulled it too hard, but I didn't care. I tore that thing off her before she had time to care.

She pulled away quickly. At first I kissed her neck hungrily and nibbled her ear, but then she cried out, "No!"

I stopped immediately.

We stayed there for a second, inches apart, in silence except from the sound of our own panting.

Finally, I looked up at her, expecting an explanation of some description, but she said nothing.

So, that was how it was going to be.

I pushed my arms straight so that I was off her, but she still said nothing, so I stood up by the bed with my back to her, and started to walk out.

"Wait!" she said, just before I got out of the room. She got up from the bed and stood in my way. She was only wearing her bra, her underwear and her heels, that we had considered too insignificant to take off. I looked at her, but I didn't say anything so she continued, "I do want this," she said. "Sorry, I just wondered about your girlfriend. Does she know you're here?"

I paused a little. "She's my girlfriend on more political terms than anything," I said with as little tone as possible.

"Well," she said, going back to her low voice, whilst undoing my bow tie slowly. "How…about," she said, also very slowly, undoing the buttons of my shirt. "We say, this night never happened," she decided, before quickly adding, "In political terms."

And it was a done deal.

I kissed her as hard as I could, pushing her against the wall, while taking off my jacket.

My shirt, her bra, my trousers, her underwear, we pulled them off as fast as we could, and before I knew it, we were gone.

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_**I'm probably not going to write any more for a while so I won't post again until I have twenty more reviews or 4,000 views. By which time I'll probably have a plan. **_

**_Again, please read Shadows. _**

**_ s/3098530/1/Shadows_**


	11. Chapter 10

_**A special Thank You two whoever posted this review. It really put a smile on my face. **_

_**i think that snow should take them captive and then, umm Katniss goes full out bada$$ and then catos like dannnnnngggg and then they get married.**_

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**Katniss's POV**

I woke up groggily, wanting to stay asleep.

The night before had been magical. Absolutely magical. Cato had, surprisingly, been a read gentleman, dancing with me, and getting me drinks and barely paying attention to any girl besides from myself. But, by the feel of my head, I had had a lot to drink, and now I was suffering for it.

I looked at the alarm clock. It wasn't too late, almost eight o'clock. The curtains were still closed, but the room was brightly lit by the rising sun.

I felt the bed beside me.

It was cold.

My heart sank just a little bit. I found part of me wishing that Cato was there, like he had the night before. I was such a flimsy girl now. Rising my hopes on such little things, but I didn't care much. I was living in the land of the rich and the lucky. I had nothing to worry about.

I got out of bed and ran a brush through my hair (there's no harm in making an effort!) before leaving my bedroom for the main room.

Cato was already dressed, but looking especially tired. I guessed that he had had a worse night than I had, though I didn't spot him drinking at all. Maybe I was too drunk to care.

"Morning!" I chirped. I couldn't have been in a happier mood.

"Morning," he replied in a less cheerful tone. Just this set my mind going. There was definitely something going on. After all, if somebody says Morning cheerfully then you have to match their tone. You just have to.

I walked over to the breakfast bar opposite where he sat. He was reading the newspaper and munching on a piece of toast. Almost attractively.

I laughed at myself. If somebody had told me that Cato, the strong killer that came from District 1, was the type to read the newspaper, I would have laughed. But there he sat, perfectly happy with his reading.

I leaned forward onto the counter, not bothering with getting breakfast. "Is something wrong?" I asked, when he said nothing to fill the short silence between us.

At this he looked up from his paper, slightly more alarmed than he should have been. "No," he replied, seeming to calm down as he said it. "It's just something about District 2."

This was my chance. I had been wondering about his home for a while, but didn't say anything in case he asked about Prim. Maybe I could get away with it…

"Do you miss District 2?" I asked him, trying not to delve too deep with the first question.

"Not really, here is much better," he replied nonchalantly, looking back at his newspaper. This answer struck me as highly materialistic, what about his family and friends? But then I thought about it. Maybe he had a specifically hard time in District 2, which is why he decided to take part in the Hunger Games, to make them proud or to get away.

"Really? What about your family?" I asked. I wanted to ask him in a less direct way, but I couldn't think of anything, so I had to stick with that, hoping it wasn't prying so much that he'd notice.

"My brother's in District 4 and my sister's a bitch." This threw me off. How could he not love his family? And why did he insist on not talking about his parents.

I wanted to ask another question but I cut myself off. My tone made it clear to Cato what I wanted to know, though. He huffed and folded up his newspaper, throwing it on the table nearby.

"She had an affair with a married man and got pregnant. She refused to get an abortion, so I disowned her, and so did my brother." He still didn't talk about his parents.

He looked as if he'd wished he'd kept his newspaper so he could avoid looking at me, but he didn't pick it up again.

I wanted to ask more questions, but I was on really thin ice when asking them. I breathed in deeply, and asked the question that had only lately come up in my mind.

"But, what about your parents," I asked him, but then I wimped out and added, "Did they disown her too." Afterwards I was quite proud of myself, because he would have to tell me about his parents and there isn't as much reason to yell at me for the question.

"No," he said simply, proving me wrong. I nodded and sat there for a second, but he said nothing, so I didn't pry anymore. After all, it was his choice if he told me or not.

I got up and took a bowl out of the cupboard, and some cereal off the shelf on the other side of the kitchen.

"So what about you?" he asked a little louder than before. "What's your family like?" He sat up straighter and genuinely looked more interested.

"Um, well, my mother's a sort of nurse for District 12?" I half said half asked. I knew that wasn't really what he wanted to know.

"What about that little sister of yours, Prim?" he asked far more directly than I would have dared.

I sighed, ceasing all movement to do with my breakfast. I really didn't want to tell him, but if I refused, then I didn't want him to get all huffy and spoil the morning after the ball.

"She has a goat," I remembered. "It's been so long I've forgotten its name. She has the kindest heart too. You know, I promised to her that I wouldn't die in the arena. If it weren't for her making me I probably wouldn't have cared as much if I died or not."

Cato looked interested about what I had to say, which I didn't like. I said far more than he said about his family.

"What about your Dad?" he asked tactlessly. I had guessed that his parents were probably dead or something because he didn't speak of them, so why couldn't he do me the same courtesy.

"Dead," I replied shortly, automatically casting my eyes down to the floor. Not because he had gone to hell, but because I was used to people trying to talk about and I would never know where to look.

He got up from the stool and stood beside me. "I'm sorry," he said, enveloping me in a big hug and kissing my forehead.

He pulled his head away just enough so that he could look at my face. I looked up at him, as he clearly had something to say. "How about we go and explore the Capitol, Trinket hasn't organised anything today. It might be fun?" I nodded and hugged him closer.

"Sure."

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_**So, I won't update another chapter until I have 5,500 views, or three more reviews on my FictionPress story Shadows. **_

_** s/3098530/1/Shadows**_


	12. Authors Note

Authors Note:

So, here's the thing, readers. I really hate this story. I know you like it, but i genuinely loath this story. It's just got no plan and nothing happening in it. It's boring to write.

Now I've found this for a while now. It's why i take so long to update chapters-because i don't want to write it.

This is why I'm going to stop writing this story. I'll keep it up, though, really I would take it down. I probably won't write another FanFict story either, because I've really lost interest altogether. Sorry. If you really like my work, then i have a story for FictionPress and a lot of plans for other's too. So, I guess you could read one of them. It's much better to write than this one.

So, sorry again, but I didn't want you to keep waiting for a chapter that isn't going to come. Bye Love Thy Enemy readers!

Dizzydreamer99


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